


The Martyr of Kinloch Hold

by dragonifyoudare



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, I don't know much about my Amell but I have a lot of FEELINGS, Language of Flowers, Mutual Pining, Non-Warden Amell, UST, Warden Brosca - Freeform, but you don't actually see it, implied major character death, it's right there in the title, very light shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonifyoudare/pseuds/dragonifyoudare
Summary: Solona Amell began making glass flowers shortly before her Harrowing, after finding a book on the language of flowers in the Circle library. Flowers could say a lot, it turned out, from fromjoys to cometolet me go.
Relationships: Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16
Collections: Dragon Age Den fic collection





	The Martyr of Kinloch Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [GravityComplex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityComplex/pseuds/GravityComplex). The book I used as a source on the language of flowers is in the public domain and [can be found on Project Gutenberg](https://www.gutenberg.org/files/31591/31591-h/31591-h.htm).

The first glass flower Solona Amell makes is simple: bright yellow lesser celandine with eight long petals, three shorter ones behind the main blossom, and a profusion of stamens. She learned in her research on botany that those were the male reproductive parts of the plant, and has to very carefully not think about that when she is shaping the flower.

She’s eighteen, and she knows her Harrowing is coming. She knows she will come out of it a full Circle mage, or she will not come out of it alive. There’s no chance she’ll be made Tranquil, considering her skill and her careful adherence to the laws of the Circle. She’s sure of that. She has to be sure of that.

Solona gives the glass celandine to Senior Enchanter Wynne, along with a notation copied from the book on the language of flowers that inspired the whole project:  _ “joys to come.” _ Wynne smiles.

“You’ll be fine, dear. You’re ready.”

“It’s a wish for you, not me,” Solona says.

“As you say.”

They take her for her Harrowing that night. When she overhears that Ser Cullen called it the cleanest he’d ever seen, she knows that doesn’t mean much, considering how new a templar he is (and considering the looks she’s caught him giving her, the tentative looks she’s given him back), but it still fills her with pride.

She decides to make another flower, for her friend Jowan. He’s convinced he’s going to be made Tranquil. She refuses to believe that’s a possibility. Jowan may be a bit sloppy, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve that fate, and Knight-Commander Greagoir is not a cruel man.

It will sit unfinished in a drawer in her new quarters, in the full mages’ section of the tower, for months after Jowan disappears. She is not told what happened to him. No one is. She wishes he had trusted her more, told her what he planned _. _ He must have run. Surely someone would have said  _ something _ if he had died (if he’d been killed).

The unfinished flower is a light purple polyanthus:  _ confidence. _

* * *

In the months that follow, there are more flowers.

She makes little white bell flowers for three of her instructors, the ones who did the most to help her, aside from Wynne. Those stand for gratitude. She leaves two bush violet blossoms on First Enchanter Irving’s desk, for admiration. The newest Chantry sister, who rather suddenly replaced a young woman named Lily, jumps every time a mage so much as looks at her. Solona gives her flowering reed, for confidence in the Maker, though it doesn’t seem to do much good. She gives her new roommate hyssop, for cleanliness, and lets her wonder what it means.

She had intended to join the Libertarian fraternity on becoming a mage, but Uldred is elected their leader, and something about him frightens her. She joins the Aequitarians instead, though there is some grumbling about the views she had expressed previously about the role of the Chantry in governing the Circle.

She makes an ox eye daisy, for herself:  _ patience. _ Don’t give up on the Circle. Don’t give up on yourself.

* * *

The last glass flower Solona makes, she makes while Natia Brosca argues with Wynne and her companions about Solona’s fate and the fate of everyone she knows. The mages will be dead soon, or they will not. The templars will be men, or they will be monsters. Cullen, trapped behind a demon’s shield that Solona suspects Wynne could break if she thought it wise, is staring at her. She knows this, even with her back turned. She can’t stand to look at him any more.

She has made other flowers over the past day, magicked them into shape in spare moments when the group of them hid for a few sweet minutes, catching their breath on quick breaks from demons and blood and the things she was always so sure would never happen  _ here. _

To Alistair, she gave a liverwort flower, for confidence. She likes the look and name of polyanthus better, but couldn’t stand to make another. To Natia, she gave elderflower, wishing her compassion. The dwarf is a good woman, she thinks, but a hard one. She’s kept Solona’s flower, though. That has to be a good sign. Leliana… Leliana is hiding something. Solona gave her nightshade, for truth, and Leliana gave her a sad, knowing smile in return.

The last glass flower Solona Amell makes is butterfly weed, a cluster of little orange blossoms. She leaves it just outside the demon’s shield.

She doesn’t know if it’s for Cullen or herself:  _ let me go. _


End file.
